Classic Poem

Heroic counsel shook our hearts to-day,
Where new-mown grass perfumed your hedge-row-dell;
Blue lights across your mangold-wurzel fell,
And Ely shone, a phantom far away.

We spoke of coming claims for social sway,
Of rising horde and shattered citadel,
And one thought all things surely must be well,
And one had little faith, and murmured “Nay!”

Then, in the primrose sunset of July,
Homeward along the Hinton fields we came,
And each to other questioning made reply

That man and God and nation were the same
When fen-pools mirrored that far minster-flame,—
And would be, while men toiled beneath the sky.